Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - We kidnapped the wrong person's son

Episode Date: April 22, 2022

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Fan of soccer, you could assist a moment historic. You could gain the bid for the final of the Cup of the World of the FIFA 2006 with Visa. It's just to have a card of credit visa BMO for participate. Inscribe you at BMO.com bar-oblique concourse. The reglements of the concourse is applicable. I reclined in the stained chair, stretching my arms above my head, letting out a small ground. I rubbed my eyes aggressively with my fists, and then returned to the window with my binoculars. for surveillance. A fair distance away, in the forest outside the town of Springfield,

was a structure that could only be described as a castle. It had old Victorian-style architecture and was made almost entirely of stone. It overlooked the modernized town, standing as a grim relic of a long forgotten past. There were stories about the owners of the mansion. Some said that it was home to a cult of direction. arranged lunatics, who would creep into town to collect human sacrifices. Others said that it was long abandoned, except for the ghosts of the original tenants who haunted the halls at night. But in every story, it was clear that there was a host of wealth hidden in the old castle. That wealth is what had drawn my partner, Bill, and I to Springfield. We had been conducting reconnaissance for the last

two months, and now we were perhaps the only people who knew the truth about the mansion. There was no cult, and the building wasn't abandoned. As far as we could tell, only two people lived in the mansion, a woman and her young son. They were incredibly reclusive and had an odd schedule. What we knew for certain was that they never came out during the day. It was difficult to see what they were doing inside the house. But their activity seemed quiet and reserved. When they did leave the house, it was always nighttime. And they always headed into the forest behind their home. Never once did they enter the town of Springfield, which explained why no one knew about them. Some nights, the woman and her son would disappear only for a couple of hours. Some nights, they were gone almost

until the morning. And twice they disappeared for an entire week. Bill only ever laughed at this eccentric schedule, but I was becoming increasingly unsettled. So today seems as good a day as any, Bill said from behind me. I let out a long sigh. Yeah, I guess we should just get this over with. A few days earlier, the woman had left the mansion by herself. The child remained all alone. We were now reasonably sure that she was on a longer trip, and this would be our best opportunity to grab the kid. I turned around to see Bill cleaning his AR-15. Did we have to bring it gun, Bill?

It looks like he's only eight years old. Yes, you need to take this seriously, Ken. I am taking this seriously. I just don't think we need a weapon like that. Isn't the knockout drug enough? You want this to go smoothly, right? Don't want anyone to get hurt? Of course. You're saying people are less likely to get hurt if you have a gun? I asked sarcastically.

Yes, Ken, that's exactly what I'm saying. This situation is all about control. We need whoever we meet to do what we say right when we say it. Maybe it will just be the kid. Or maybe the mom returns unexpectedly. Or maybe there is someone else in the mansion that we haven't seen. We need to be mean and threatening, Ken, because as long as no one resists us, no one will get hurt. But if you show any weakness, or let them think that maybe you don't really want to go through with this, well, that's when they might decide they can fight back. And that's when some real shit will go down. So can you be mean, Ken? I sat in silent frustration, but I knew he was right.

Yeah, I can be mean. Good. Bill finished cleaning his weapon and stood up. You get some sleep, he said. I'll watch until the sun comes up. Then we'll move the van deeper into the forest and come around the back. I nodded and shuffled past Bill to the mat on the floor of the van. The floor was littered with garbage, empty bags of chips, plastic take-out containers,

and a heart-stopping amount of energy drink cans. I brushed a few of those very cans off the mat and collapsed onto the pillow. Despite my anxiety surrounding the crime we were about to commit, I fell asleep. I awoke to the unrhythmic motion of our van moving across the forest floor. Sunlight occasionally splattered my face as the morning peaked through the trees. Dill had apparently not bothered to wake me. But when he saw me steadying myself against the van's wild motion, he said, Oh good, you're awake.

Come help me find a good access point. Rubbing my eyes, I moved to the passenger seat and slumped down in the chair. I began surveying the land in relation to the mansion, looking for a good spot to hide the van and allow for a direct route to the building where a kid was, waiting all alone. Was he sleeping? Or playing by himself? Or...

What about over there? Bill said. He was pointing to a section of the forest that remained thick up until it almost touched the mansion. That would provide the most cover. I wondered if it would even matter, considering that we had never seen anyone else up here. Yeah, I said.

It looks good. Just stay clear of those bushes over there. Looks like a place where the... van could get stuck. Bill put the vehicle in part and pulled out the keys. He proceeded to pick up his rifle and pull a black mask over his face. I did the same. But instead of a rifle, I grabbed the syringe full of the knockout drug. I had researched the chemical extensively. Bill had said to buy whatever worked the fastest, but I carefully looked for a drug that would cause no long-term damage to our victim. I didn't want to do any of this. I never thought I would be someone willing to

kidnap a child, but I simply needed the money. I figured that this crime wouldn't do any real damage. We were going to take the kid, but then we would send him right back after we received payment. We weren't going to hurt him or anything. Sure, he might be a little shaken up, but he would get over it. I was at least certain. that they could afford therapy. Slowly, I slid the door of the van open and stepped out into the crisp warning air. Bill stepped out, and I slid the door shut. In low squats, we move through the forest, pausing just before it opened to the edge of the property's massive backyard. Making sure the area was clear, we quickly moved to the back of the building. Our research on the property

had revealed that the home had no security systems whatsoever. So, at most, we had planned on breaking a window for entry. But when Bill tried the handle on the back door, it swung open. This is going to be the easiest money I ever made, Bill said with a laugh. We moved into the old house. It looked like something that should be in a museum. Grand velvet furniture with large brass buttons. No sign of anything electrical. There weren't even. candles. The only thing that even had the potential to generate light was the large stone fireplace, but there wasn't a log in sight. Entering the foyer where the staircase was, I was struck by the image on a massive painting. It was of the woman and her son. They were both

wearing all black, as if attending a funeral, and their faces were forlorn. Not a hint of life shown in their gaze. They stared dead on. The mother's head rested on the boy's shoulder. Even in the painting, the woman was terrifying. I could almost feel her presence radiating outward from the canvas. I shook my head and carefully followed Bill up the old stairs. We moved down a large hallway to the section of the house. We had identified as the boy's room. We made it to the door. I motioned Bill to lower his weapon and let me go in first, hoping that we wouldn't have to use fear. The door slowly swung open, an intense coldness flowed out into the hallway. The room was completely dark, massive blackout curtains covered the windows. I pulled a

small flashlight from my pocket and switched it on. There were toy dolls scattered across the floor, along with some odd toys I didn't recognize. I turned the flashlight to the right and almost jumped back in shock at what I saw. It wasn't that what I saw was terrifying in and of itself. It was that what I saw was impossibly strange. There was a monkey bar-like contraption in the corner of the room, and dangling upside down from it by his legs was the boy. He was wearing an old-fashioned, nightgown and a nightcap that somehow remained on his upside down head. Was he sleeping like this? Was that possible? I moved to the boy and grabbed him by his legs. His skin was ice cold and stiff. I thought for a moment that he was dead. But that thought escaped from my head as I was flung to the

floor. The boy lunged at me. He sat on my chest, his cold hands clutching at my throat. Bill shouted and the boy turned his head. I pointed the flashlight at Bill so the boy could see the rifle. I hoped that it would make him comply, but the boy didn't seem afraid of the weapon. He seemed intrigued by it. While the boy's attention remained fixed on Bill, I pulled the syringe from my pocket and stuck it in his small arm. The knockout drug was administered.

The boy looked down at me. He sniffed the air. Then he bent his head closer to me. His impossibly strong hands pinned my shoulders to the ground. He placed his nose right next to my neck and inhaled, long and deep. He smiled and got off me. Then he just stood in the corner of the room. Listen, I said.

We don't want to hurt you. We just need you to come with us, okay? The boy nodded. Bill and I exchanged a look, wondering why the knockout drug hadn't done anything. Eyeing the boy, I moved over to his bed, or rather, the strange monkey bar structure where a normal child's bed should have been. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the ransom note containing the detailed instructions of what the mother must do to see her son again. The language was harsh and threatening.

I left it on the nightstand. The boy walked with precisely perfect posture to the doorway of his room. room and looked back at us. I stepped in front of him and walked down the hallway. Bill followed behind the boy. As we passed the large painting in the foyer, I avoided looking at it, but I still thought I could feel the mother's eyes watching me. We arrived at the back door, and Bill placed a bag over the boy's head and cinched it shut. Can't have him telling anyone where we went when he gets back, Bill explained. We moved into the backyard and stepped into the morning light. The boy, who had been calm this whole time, suddenly led out a strange hissing shriek.

He started to run around wildly and fought us off as we grabbed at it. He fled into the forest, and once he reached the shade of a large tree, he calmed down. Bill and I decided to pick him up. He was heavy. We carried him like a log together. Reaching the van. Bill hopped in the driver's seat and shot me in icy glare. Told you. He began in a harsh whisper. To buy the drug that worked best. You gave him the whole thing and he's still awake. And so much of sparing his health, he's having some kind of allergic reaction to it. I looked at the boy. He was rubbing his hands and his legs. There were red, tiny blisters covering his skin. But they hadn't spread to where his pajamas covered him. Was that from the drug?

At least he's cooperated, I said. Let's just go. Bill drove us down our carefully selected back roads to the abandoned shack we had chosen as our hideout. There was an old garage with a manual chain to lift the door. I jumped out and pulled the garage door open. Bill pulled in, and I let the door slide back down. I ushered the boy into the main house and pulled the bag from his head. In the light, I was shocked.

by the contrast of his abyss black hair, laying across his corpse white face. Weird kid, Bill muttered. Let's hope his mom comes home tonight. She can tell us to confirm she's dropping off the money. We'll send the kid home. And we can both move on with our lives. Separately, I said. Bill grunted. We all sat, mostly in silence, for hours. I would occasionally catch the boy staring at me, but he would say nothing when I tried to speak to him. Knight descended, and the mother didn't call. But I felt something strange coming from outside the house, a force radiating from the darkness. Bill, I said, something doesn't feel right. I think someone is outside. You're just being paranoid. There was a whooshing noise outside the window.

Something powerful rushed by. Mom's going to kill you, the boy said in a sing-songy tone. Bill and I were both surprised by this utterance. The front door flew off its hinges and hit the back wall. There, in the open darkness, a woman stepped forward. The woman from the painting, the boy's mother. Shadow seemed to pour off her like fog. Stand back or I'll shoot!

Bill shouted. His rifle aimed at the woman's chest. She walked toward him. Bill pulled the trigger. The gun sounded. The woman walked forward as if nothing happened. The gun fired again. The woman swiped it from Bill's hands and snapped it in half like it was made of cardboard.

She grabbed Bill's face with one hand and forced him down to the floor, cracking his skull on the wood and rendering him unconscious. She turned to me. I'm sorry, I said, backing away in fear. Take him. It wasn't personal. We weren't going to hurt him. Just take him and go.

Don't you smell him, Mommy? The boy asked excitedly. Is it him? It is, the woman said. Her voice had a pressure to it. I could feel it. It was beautiful and terrifying. She walked up to me and stared me straight in the eyes.

I couldn't look away. I saw her pupils begin to pulse, like they had heartbeats. Then I fell unconscious. I awoke in a large room. There were beds filling the room, like an infirmary. Each bed was filled with a sleeping person. Each person had a blood bag with an IV attached. Was this a hospital? Had I been rescued from that woman? Looking closer, I noticed something strange. The bags of blood were increasing in size. The blood

wasn't flowing into the individuals. It was flowing out of them. Delicious, isn't it? I felt the woman's Boy slide across my skin and crawl into my eyes. It's an efficient system. We keep the humans alive just barely. And they can supply us with exponentially more blood than if we consume them all at once, much less hunting. Though, I must admit, it doesn't taste quite as refreshing. Asada, I was chained to a table.

What's going on? I cried frantically. Please let me go. The woman shushed me and stroked my head. I was somehow comforted and horrified at the same time. Her skin was pale and her hair dark, but her eyes and lips were blood red. There are only two things in this world I love,

she continued, her steady voice filling with emotion. Feasting and my son. My son is the greatest love by far. You and your companion tried to abuse my son. You stole him from me. Normally, I don't enjoy hurting humans. I'm not opposed to it either.

Let's just say I'm neutral on that particular pastime. But I'm going to enjoy hurting your friend. I pulled at the restraints. Was she going to torture us to death? I felt like crying. My heart tried to escape my chest. The woman nodded to the corner of the room. There was a locked cell there.

Bill was inside, chained to the wall. I'm going to waste his blood, she said fiercely. I'm going to tear him apart slowly. Skin him. Pluck out his eyes. Give him enough of my venom to induce agony. But not to change him. But the word change, thangs shot from her upper mouth like spring blades.

Change him? I asked, still on the verge of tears. The woman turned back to me and smiled. That's right, my darling. You may not understand what I am yet, but you will. And the thing that I am, well, we mate for life. But I lost my mate years ago. Hundreds. My son could have ripped you to pieces, but he smelled your unique scent. He smelled a new father, and I smell it too. You are my new mate, or you will be. Once you become like me, my mind was reeling. I didn't understand anything that was happening. The transformation will hurt. There is no way around that. Believe me, I don't wish to hurt you, even after what you did to my son.

But soon you'll understand, and you will be the third thing that I love. She bent over me and kissed me. Her kiss was magical. Her lips were icy cold, but I could physically feel the passion. It flowed like warmth through my body. She kissed me on the neck. ecstasy. Then her fangs pierced my mouth. She had bitten me. I felt something flow into me. Her kisses had been warm. But this was like lava being poured into my veins. I screamed.

And still she held her fangs in me. She finally withdrew and kissed my forehead. Endure my... We will belong to each other soon. She left me and moved to the cell holding Bill. My vision blurred and became tinted with red. The venom spread through me, and now it felt like bits of shattered glass were bouncing around inside me. My skin was unbearably sensitive. Even the air brushing against me felt like knives peeling my flesh. Between my agonizing screams, I heard the scream of another. I didn't have the ability to direct my focus, but I knew she was doing something horrible to Bill. I struggled against my chains, but it was of no use. There, in that cruel place, us two men continued to scream for a long while, and only the woman and her son could hear us.

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